<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>her early leaf's a flower by pidgeode</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25211017">her early leaf's a flower</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgeode/pseuds/pidgeode'>pidgeode</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Gold Can Stay [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(cell block tango voice) he had it comin', Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Character Study, Episode: s01e07 Q&amp;A, Episode: s01e11 Alone Time, Gen, Introspection, Minor Character Death, No happy ending this time, Parable of the Prodigal Son, Spoilers for Episode: s01e20 Like Father ..., a family that stabs together stays together, but ainsley is just as shrewd, coins, endicott's a jerky shrewd sly zucchini, how does one tag?, ish, look at that we've got ourselves a series now, obviously, sock stealer, sorry - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:15:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25211017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgeode/pseuds/pidgeode</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have seen it coming.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Gold Can Stay [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>her early leaf's a flower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     He never knows what to say to her.</p><p>     Malcolm is toying with the green candy in his palm, head bowed, listening to Detective Arroyo’s footsteps fade away. The red-and-blue lights that dappled the walls are gone now, the piercing sirens just an echo moving farther down the street.</p><p>     Silence. Then, the soft <em> pat-pat </em>of socked feet on the wood floor. Malcolm turns around to look down at Ainsley, who’s wringing her small hands anxiously. There are confused tears in her eyes.</p><p>     “Where did Daddy go?” she asks quietly.</p><p>     Malcolm is caught off guard by the question. He rocks back and forth, chewing his lip nervously, and Ainsley’s eyes are so innocent and sad that all he can do is take a step forward and offer her the green candy that Detective Arroyo had given him moments ago.</p><p>     Ainsley accepts it, unwraps it, then pops it into her mouth, but she continues to stare at Malcolm, waiting for him to answer her.</p><p>     After a while, Malcolm manages to say: “It’s gonna be okay.”</p><p>
  <em>      He should have seen it coming. </em>
</p><p>     And then he doesn’t say anything after that for a long, long time.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>     Ainsley doesn’t know what’s wrong with her brother, and it makes her mad, but Malcolm doesn’t seem to notice. He doesn’t seem to notice a lot these days, actually.</p><p>     “Malcolm,” she whines when he refuses to play Candyland with her, “<em>pleeeease?</em>”</p><p>     Malcolm shakes his head and scoots away. He’s reading a book.</p><p>     “You’re so <em> boring</em>,” Ainsley grumbles. “You don’t even play tea party with me anymore.” When Malcolm <em> still </em>doesn’t say anything, she stomps out of his room, shouting: “I’ll just have to ask Mr. Boots!”</p><p>     Malcolm looks up from his book for a moment, confused, but quickly dips his head back down. It’s probably just an imaginary friend.</p><p>
  <em>      He should have seen it coming. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>     A photo on the table: Ainsley and Malcolm, ages nine and fifteen. She’s squeezing him tightly. He’s got a smile on his face. Jackie took the photo because it was the day Malcolm really started talking again--not bits and pieces, <em> really </em>talking, in delicious sentences and paragraphs. Ainsley jokes that she missed him when he was mute, but everyone knows she’d stay silent forever just to hear him tell her that things are okay.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>     They grow up at the same time, but it’s hard for Malcolm to remember when their lives touched. Their late teenage years come and go in pieces: she said something here, and he did this thing with her. Birthdays. Homework. Studying together. Maybe? He doesn’t know for sure. It’s all a sort of smear.</p><p>     But the one thing he <em> does </em> know is that they were close--closer than most siblings were. And both of them hated the fact that Malcolm went to visit their father every other weekend, but neither of them did anything about it. Malcolm doesn’t even know if there was anything they <em> could </em>do about it. There was something gravitational about that cell that pulled you in, and Malcolm was too weak to fight it.</p><p>     Another thing he remembers: Ainsley was always stronger than him. Perhaps not in the physical or intellectual sense, but like their father, Ainsley had a sort of charisma and fierce energy that was hard to resist. They were the same that way.</p><p>
  <em>      He should have seen it coming. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>     </p><p>     It’s a fork in the road that makes Malcolm and Ainsley diverge from each other--he goes to Quantico, she goes to the media. In a way, they’re doing the same things, but the ways they achieve their goals are completely different. Two sides of the same coin, really, except Ainsley is the side facing the ground. </p><p>     No one expects much from her, and it’s both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Ainsley doesn’t face the ridicule of being The Surgeon’s daughter. But on the other hand, no one pays attention to her. No one sees the fire, the spirit Malcolm loves so much.</p><p>
  <em>      He should have seen it coming. </em>
</p><p>     Until they do. And ironically, people end up seeing her <em> because </em> of the fact that she’s The Surgeon’s daughter. Ainsley learns quickly that serial killers made for good press and so does Malcolm, but they have different opinions on the matter--two sides of the same coin, but this time Malcolm is facing the ground, and Ainsley is the one who puts him there.</p><p>
  <em>      “You claim to care about your son, yet what you did twenty years ago harmed him irreparably.” </em>
</p><p>     She assures him she knows what she’s doing, and she's right.</p><p>
  <em>      “I’m doing my job. You do yours.” </em>
</p><p>     A new question occurs to Malcolm: what is Ainsley willing to do?</p><p>
  <em>      “He watches my reports?” </em>
</p><p>     Their father is her biggest cheerleader--no, her <em> only </em>cheerleader.</p><p>
  <em>      He should have seen it coming. </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>     </p><p>     Mr. Boots was an imaginary friend until he wasn’t. The blame shifts around for a while:</p><p>     It’s Watkins’s fault for kidnapping Malcolm and killing people.</p><p>     It’s Malcolm’s fault because he went without backup.</p><p>     It’s Malcolm’s fault because he joined the NYPD.</p><p>     It’s Ainsley’s fault for not telling them about Watkins.</p><p>     It’s Ainsley’s fault for not knowing until it was too late.</p><p>     It’s the FBI’s fault for firing Malcolm and taking over the case.</p><p>     It’s Jessica’s fault for putting up that cellar wall.</p><p>     It’s everyone’s fault and no one’s fault, but while they're all busy being mad at each other, they almost forget the fact that there’s someone in a cell causing nothing and everything just by existing.</p><p>     Malcolm says it once, and Jessica says it all the time: “It’s Martin’s fault. This is all Martin Whitly’s fault.”</p><p>     They’re right, but then Ainsley asks, ever so quietly: “Is it <em> our </em> fault for making Martin Whitly?”</p><p>     Years and years of experience with the criminal mind, but Malcolm comes up with nothing. It’s the second time in his life where all he can do is stare and hate himself for not giving her an answer.</p><p>     There will be one more time.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>     He never asked Ainsley what else Mr. Boots taught her during tea.</p><p>
  <em>      One time, when Malcolm was eighteen, his father told him the Parable of the Prodigal Son; how a young man defied his father and set out on a journey, before realizing that where he truly belonged was home. And when he did return, the father was thrilled and forgiving. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “It’s a good moral,” Martin explained, smiling softly. “Friends come and go, but family? Family always comes back--and here you are. My little prodigal son.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Malcolm frowned. “What about the older brother?” </em>
</p><p>     Ainsley’s hands don’t shake as she slides the letter opener across Endicott’s throat. Somehow, in that moment, all the things Malcolm thought he knew about his sister vanishes, because he did not expect this. No one did.</p><p>     But he should have. He should have seen it coming.</p><p>
  <em>      “What about the older brother?” Ainsley asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Mr. Boots chuckled. “Oh, he wasn’t pleased. Would you have been? The older brother stayed behind and did all the hard work, but no one noticed him.” He shook his head ruefully. “No one but God.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “What did the father say?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “He said that the reason they celebrated for the prodigal was because he had learned his lesson and come home.” He snorted in contempt. “Stupid, right?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Ainsley nodded. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “I wonder what became of the older brother,” Watkins sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Was he forced to live as the obedient son the rest of his life?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “I think,” Ainsley said earnestly, “he met a beautiful maiden. And they were in love, happily ever after! But he didn’t stay obedient,” she added, “because he learned he could do whatever he wanted if he believed!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Watkins chuckled. “Oh, little Ainsley,” he purred, “you really are something.” </em>
</p><p>     The knife clatters to the floor, and Malcolm just stares. Again. Again. He always stares at his sister, always doesn’t know what to say, because somehow Ainsley always manages to catch him off guard.</p><p>     “What just happened?” she breathes.</p><p>     And because there’s nothing else he can do, Malcolm says what he always says; his motto, his mantra, his anchor: </p><p>     “It’s going to be okay.”</p><p>     It is definitely not okay.</p><p>     Bet on a coin and toss it in the air; it’ll land one side up and one side down. Maybe the side that ends up down feels bad about not being seen. Maybe the side that ends up down doesn’t know what to do. But maybe the side that ends up down is just hiding, waiting for the coin to flip back--because it will, inevitably. </p><p>     Family always comes back. Words are always spoken. Decisions are always made. That’s just life, and it doesn’t always have a happy ending, but it has an ending nonetheless. </p><p>     Except somehow, no one ever expects what they are left with. Somehow, people are shocked when they bet on heads and it lands on tails, even though they knew that it could happen. </p><p>     They could have seen it coming. They <em> should </em>have seen it coming. </p><p>     But they don’t, because their assumptions get in the way. They always anticipate the prodigal without thinking of the older brother.</p><p>     So here’s the older brother, with blood on her face and a knife in her hand. Watkins got his answer, but there’s more to the story--Malcolm now has to figure out which side he wants the coin to land on. But the thing is, it doesn't even matter who ends up facing down or up--what’s done is done. No going back. No indicator as to what happens next. </p><p>     Malcolm only knows one thing for sure: when the parable finally comes to a close, “it’s okay” just won’t be enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well golly gee, I've got a series on my hands now. I should have seen it coming. *ba dum tsss*</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>